Wycliffe: Korean North American Mobilization

Bible Translation
Survey
Literacy

Survey In The City

By Seung Kim

It wasn't supposed to be like this. In every account of survey I've ever read or heard about, surveyors braved uncertain weather conditions and even more uncertain modes of transportation as they crossed rivers and mountains to get to remote villages, endured tough nights on the ground or in huts (if they were lucky) as they fought off insects, and if they were still healthy-a big if-they might get data for 1 or 2 languages over several weeks. So what was I doing sitting in the modern, air-conditioned hotel room I'd stayed in for the month, calculating the total amount I spent on cab fares and restaurant bills, and trying to organize the data we (my survey partner Noel and I) had collected on 29 languages? Was this still survey work?

Yes! While the look and feel of my trip was different, the goal was the same as almost any survey trip: to gather linguistic and socio-linguistic data that will help determine which people groups need and want the Scriptures in their mother tongue. Because we were working in a country that doesn't allow foreigners to go to villages, we had to modify the traditional survey trip to fit the urban setting of the large capital city.

We stayed at a hotel instead of a village school or hut.

We took buses and taxis instead of hiking.

We ate dinners at restaurants instead of whatever the villagers had just harvested or killed.

We drank bottled water and Coke instead of boiled water or filtered water.

We actually used flush toilets (most of the time).
Our recording sessions were interrupted by airplane and truck noises, instead of chickens and dogs.

We collected the data in quiet, private rooms instead of out in the open village square.

We actually had electricity (most of the time).
We bought maps of the city instead of having to make our own maps of the rural areas.

We didn't need to hire an interpreter because there were many educated people in the city who could speak English.

While there certainly are advantages in collecting data in the village-we would have access to far more speakers of the language-I marveled at how the Lord opens a window in situations where the door is closed. For in the capital city were several seminaries that had students from precisely those villages that we wanted to go to but couldn't. And because of that, we were able to gather a great deal of data quickly in a country where we wouldn't be able to go regularly or spend much time. Praise Him for His sovereignty and wisdom!

It was indeed a wonderful chance to experience His provision in so many ways: helpful administrators who freed up the students' schedules to be interviewed by us, gracious staff who provided lunches each day, and students who were patient enough to answer our often tedious questions for 6-8 straight hours. I also experienced His provision in me personally, for without His strength and joy, I don't think I could have concentrated so hard for so long each day: asking and recording the same 500 questions each day can get tedious for the interviewer, too!

I learned something else, too. There's no getting around the fact that the actual survey work is hard, even when you can stay at a hotel, take taxis, and eat at restaurants. It simply was not easy to listen to new languages each day and transcribe them accurately. I'm sure that the seminary students wondered why I couldn't seem to differentiate sounds and tones that were so clearly different to them, and why I asked them to repeat some of them over and over again. (If you've ever had the experience of non-Koreans telling you that the Korean words for bread 'bbang' and room 'bang' sound exactly the same, you'll understand what I mean.)

But I learned that there's an overriding fact: the Lord doesn't ask us to do something that's hard for us without being with us and helping us. I can't explain how I was able to recall linguistic information that I thought had expired right after final exams, or felt so peaceful and comfortable about doing something brand new and difficult-except by His grace. So here's the final fact: survey work is by no means merely an academic exercise, but a life lesson in depending on Him and experiencing His grace.

There were other lessons along the way. One of the things surveyors lament is that because they have to travel a lot, work with people for only short periods, and then move onto a new villages and people groups, there is no chance to develop long-term relationships with the nationals. I felt the truth of that for the first time as I worked with a new student each day, and thus didn't have the time or opportunity to develop much of a friendship with any of them. But just because there may not be long-term working relationships, it doesn't mean relationships weren't important during our trip.

Every relationship, however brief or seemingly unimportant, was a chance to be a light for Him, a chance for brothers and sisters in Christ to serve and encourage one another. For me, that meant treating the hotel staff with courtesy and dignity; it meant trying (not always successfully) to be patient and polite to taxi drivers who sometimes tried to take advantage of us; it meant seeing His provision in the simple yet warm hospitality of the seminary staff; it meant being challenged in bits of conversation I had with students who desire to serve Him despite danger and poverty (they probably live on about $10/month); it meant giving a talk at a chapel service to encourage the students just as they had encouraged me, and also wearing the local attire for men, something that looks like a long, leg-hugging skirt, to show that I wanted to identify myself with them.

I may not see again any of the people I met during the survey trip; that's the nature of survey work. But somehow, I don't feel sorry for myself. For the Lord chose me, and me alone, to experience these relationships in these unique ways, and though they had more breadth than depth, they still felt rich to me. In survey work, I have the privilege of not knowing what other similarly rich relationships lie ahead in the future.

Since the trip, we've been working on analyzing the data to see how similar the languages are in their vocabulary, phonology and grammar, and planning future survey trips. There's still much we don't know, and we're realizing that there are some types of data that we have to get from the villages. So since we can't go there ourselves, we'll be training students-perhaps some of the same seminary students we met during our first trip-to collect survey data when they go back to their villages. That means yet another departure from the traditional model of survey work. But we're quickly getting used to the idea that in this closed country, the Lord is opening some very creative windows that might even help us get the data we need more efficiently and reliably than if we could do everything ourselves in the traditional way.

One day, I would still love to experience the traditional survey trip. I guess there's a part of me that wants to experience adventures and dangers, to have interesting stories to tell (nothing much exciting happens in a hotel). But for all the ways I saw God's wisdom and grace, for all the people I met, for all the work I was able to accomplish, for all the experiences I have under my belt (though the skirt-like thing doesn't use a belt), I'm glad that my first survey trip wasn't what I thought survey would be. Surely His thoughts and ways are higher and better than mine! (Isaiah 55:8-9) Praise Him. Glory to Him alone.

Seung Kim, a language surveyor in South Asia